


The Furthest Constellations of Our Souls

by distortedreality



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Knotting, M/M, Mpreg, Protective Derek, Stiles Stilinski Being an Idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9712298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distortedreality/pseuds/distortedreality
Summary: “So, do I kiss you? Is it weird if I kiss you? It’s kind of weird isn’t it? I should st—““Shut up, Stiles.” Stiles was momentarily glad that Derek had interrupted him because his words would probably have turned into an absolute car wreck had he been allowed to continue. But only momentarily, since Derek’s lips were on his, and like any man with an attractive person connected to their face, Stiles could think of nothing else.Basically Derek accidentally knocks Stiles up and things happen.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Science & Faith by The Script

Derek was moody. Well, Derek was always moody, so moodier than usual. He tended to at least crack a grin at Stiles’ jokes. Instead he looked like someone had simultaneously kicked a puppy and threatened to fight him.

“Dude, what is up with you?” Stiles punched Derek’s arm lightly. It was met with a glare so intense Stiles half expected the grass beneath them to wilt.

“Nothing. And don’t call me dude.” Derek was no fun sometimes, honestly. It had been months since their latest scuffle with anything dangerous or supernatural, so Derek should be enjoying the smooth sailing.

“Alright, whatever you say.” Stiles declined to press any further, still feeling the bruises Derek had left on his arm last time he had pissed him off. The guy needed to learn to control his strength. Personally, Stiles thought the universe should give him some kind of condolence power since he had to deal with all these werewolves all the time. Showing him up with their strength and speed and senses. All Stiles was armed with was his wit. Wit that went greatly underappreciated by his friends, mind you.

Derek sighed and picked at the grass beneath them. He didn’t really know why he was he was so irritable. Well, that was a lie, but he would never tell anyone the reason. Least of all _Stiles._ The kid would give himself an aneurism from laughing.

“Maybe you should go back to your loft and have a wank?” Stiles supplied. Very helpfully, in his opinion. He steeled himself from the semi-playful punch he anticipated hitting his shoulder, but it never came. Instead Derek just looked pained.

“Wait, that’s not it is it?” This was a comedic goldmine for Stiles. “You need some alone time?” He didn’t think he could’ve wiped the smirk off his face if he tried.

“You get off on other people’s pain, don’t you?” Derek was exasperated. He knew Stiles would never let up now.

“Dude, just call a hooker or something? Or even better, go to a bar. You’d have women dripping off you, lucky bastard.”

“You’re not exactly helping, Stiles.” Derek paused, fighting with himself about how much to tell Stiles. On one hand, it was Stiles. The annoying and sarcastic kid he for some reason enjoyed having around, if he was honest with himself. But the kid couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. He would let it out in thinly veiled jokes like a leaking dam. On the other hand, it was _Stiles,_ the kid who had proven himself loyal to Derek and the pack, and who – if you could look past the witty comments – actually did care for Derek.

“It’s a wolf thing,” Derek said slowly. “Like the tie to the full moon. It wants me to find a …” He took a deep breath. “A _mate,_ for lack of a better word. The wolf instincts don’t like being unattached for so long.” Now that Stiles thought about it, he hadn’t ever really seen Derek with anyone. He knew about the history with Kate Argent, but that was like a freaking decade ago. Derek had basically been a black hole of emotion for his entire friendship with Stiles.

“Good to know werewolves get blue balls, then.” Stiles couldn’t help himself. Derek didn’t pay him any notice.

“I’ve tried to push it down, but nothing works.” Derek ran his hands down his face. “There isn’t exactly an ample amount of my kind in Beacon Hills. Not ones who aren’t in my pack.”

“What about a normal girl? Or guy, if you’re into that. What are you into, anyway?” Stiles wondered what the ratio of death stares to fond looks Derek gave him amounted to. There was an obvious winner.

“I couldn’t risk not changing. The instinct is too strong to risk it. I wouldn’t give the pack away like that.”

“I mean, some people know about you. How about Lydia? Cute, supernatural, would likely be attracted to you? I can personally vouch for her allure.” Stiles wasn’t sure if he was serious. Probably not. Hopefully not.

“Uh, no. Hard no. Please never bring that up again.” The expression on Derek’s face was probably the most animated one Stiles had ever received. Not a good expression, but at least there was some life there. “God, stop thinking. Please.” Derek stood up and brushed his jeans off. Stiles had a lightbulb moment. Well, more of a short circuit moment since this was a bad idea. A super bad idea. Worse than him and Scott summoning messed up alpha Peter Hale to the school without any preparations the year before.

“Wait, what about me? Hello, horny teenage guy over here.” Derek shot him yet another withering look. _I’m gonna have to start keeping a tally of these since apparently he’s going for the world record,_ Stiles thought.

“Stop thinking with your dick,” Derek replied, walking down the grassy knoll to his car at the bottom.

“Have you met me?” Stiles yelled back. Derek just slipped into his car and drove off. Stiles should have felt relieved at Derek’s reaction. Instead he felt a twist in his stomach. _Yep, definitely need to get my brain out of my pants. Any normal person would appreciate how much you do not fuck with this kind of situation._

By the time Stiles got home he was starving. His dad had ordered pizza, so Stiles dug in, shoveling food in his mouth in a very Stiles manner. Which was to say, undignified. His dad didn’t look impressed. In fact, he looked almost concerned. Not that he never not looked concerned for Stiles anymore. Not since Stiles told him about the not so normal going ons in Beacon Hills. Most of them, anyway.

“Jesus, Stiles, go take a shower or something. You’ve got pizza all over your face,” his dad chastised. Stiles grinned at him with a full mouth, but obliged.

Once under the steam, he did nothing but think with his dick. Which was something he should do more often, he decided. Wrapping a towel around his waist he walked down the hall to his bedroom, twisting the knob and closing the door behind him. Speaking of knobs, there was one in his room. Stiles let out what was possibly a shriek. But a manly shriek. Hopefully.

“What the hell, Derek?” Stiles yelled. “You know we have a front door right? Large plank of wood set into the wall and faces the street? You might’ve heard of them.” Derek ignored him.

“I thought about your offer—“ Derek started.

“It’s been like _two hours,_ ” Stiles hissed. Derek looked deadpan.

“It doesn’t take two hours to think about something for a person who isn’t you,” Derek retorted. Stiles wasn’t sure what he even meant by that, but it was probably an insult. “For lack of a better offer, I’ll accept.” _Screw you, I’m someone’s best offer._ Stiles’ eyes went wide.

“What _here? Now?_ ” Derek found his floundering amusing if his smirk was any indication. “Dude _no._ I’m not … I mean ... my _dad’s_ down the hall.” Stiles’ cheeks had reached a new level of red. “And shouldn’t we discuss this? Preferably when I’m not wearing a towel.” Derek gestured at Stiles’ closet. “You’re not watching me.” Derek rolled his eyes but obliged, turning around on Stiles’ desk chair. Stiles was about to pull on Batman underwear but decided against it. Sexual, adult conversations should not happen while he wore Batman underwear.

“First of all, I don’t want this to be weird. So get all your weirdness out of your system now,” Stiles said as he sat down on his bed.

“What do you mean by weird?” Derek asked. His eyes seemed to burn a hole through Stiles’.

“Weird as in not wanting to hang out anymore, or talk to each other, or feel like we have to, like, step around each other’s feelings. Well my feelings. I’m not sure you’re capable of feelings.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“And don’t pretend like you’ll have to treat me differently, or something. Like, I still want you to punch me if I call you a douchebag. Well not want to, but you get what I mean.” He hoped Derek did.

“Ok,” Derek agreed. “When should we…”

“Like, give me a call when your werewolf senses are tingling. Or come by, or whatever.” Derek nodded and got up to leave. He paused as he walked past Stiles.

“Thank you,” he said, clapping Stiles on the shoulder. That was about as bro-d out as Stiles had seen Derek. He kind of liked it.

 

***

 

It didn’t take long for Derek to call on Stiles. It took three days, in fact. Stiles came home from lacrosse practice so find Derek sitting on his bed flipping through a book from Stiles’ shelf.

“Jeez, a little heads up would’ve been nice,” Stiles muttered. “Look, I know you’re a supernatural being and all that but remember I can’t hear your heartbeat. So it just about stops mine when I walk into a room and you’re suddenly there.”

“Sorry,” Derek said without looking up from the book. His frown was deep set on his face.

“Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?” Stiles didn’t really want to deal with moody Derek. Coach had been brutal in his comments today and Stiles had just about enough to snap. Derek closed the book and made his way over to Stiles, stopping a few inches in front of him. Stiles didn’t know what the hell to do. Should he kiss Derek? Was he even supposed to kiss Derek? Or was this a strictly no face-touch situation.

“So, do I kiss you? Is it weird if I kiss you? It’s kind of weird isn’t it? I should st—“

“Shut _up,_ Stiles.” Stiles was momentarily glad that Derek had interrupted him because his words would probably have turned into an absolute car wreck had he been allowed to continue. But only momentarily, since Derek’s lips were on his, and like any man with an attractive person connected to their face, Stiles could think of nothing else. Derek’s lips were far softer than he thought they would be, and his stubble much rougher, like a sweet and sour kind of deal.

At first Derek simply pressed his lips to Stiles’ waiting for a reaction. Once Stiles felt himself relax into the kiss Derek began to move his lips, opening them slightly and slipping his tongue into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles was already embarrassingly excited. It wasn’t all his fault; he hadn’t kissed all that many people and Derek was actually good at it. He wondered if Derek would be pleased or offended if he told him he kissed better than a girl. Probably best to keep that one to himself. Derek nipped at Stiles’ lip and pulled back, eyes dark. He used his tongue to trace a path down Stiles’ jaw and neck, pausing to leave wet kisses when Stiles’ breathing sped up. Stiles hoped that if his dad heard the sounds he would just assume Stiles was having a panic attack, or something else less traumatic for him to walk into, and leave him alone. He really needed to invest in a lock on his door. Like, a massive deadbolt.

Derek lifted up Stiles’ shirt and continued to kiss down his torso, dropping to his knees. When Stiles looked down he noticed Derek’s eyes were nearly red, which was hot in a primal kind of way. Derek unzipped Stiles’ jeans and pulled them down along with his underwear, leaving no time for Stiles to second guess the situation. When Derek took his cock in his mouth Stiles thought he might die. And also cum immediately. He turned his thoughts to literally anything else to hold himself off, but Derek kept bringing him back into the moment. His lips slid down Stiles’ cock, tongue twisting around the head. Stiles came embarrassingly fast. In his defense, he had only ever had one blowjob before, and it was nowhere near as good as whatever Derek just pulled. Stiles would probably have collapsed if Derek hadn’t grabbed him by the arms and pulled him toward the bed. Despite Stiles’ earlier reservations, the arrangement seemed like the best idea in the world right then and there.

Stiles sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Derek towards him. _How bad could a dick in my mouth really be? Derek made it seem easy._ It was certainly not as easy as Stiles hoped. Once he had Derek’s pants down and a hand around his cock he realized that Derek was actually quite big. Stiles tried to copy what Derek had done, moving his mouth at a steady pace down Derek’s length and using his tongue to tease the tip. Once Derek’s breathing sped up Stiles increased his pace, pulling Derek closer by his thighs and letting him cum down his throat.

“Gotta say, I expected you to be a bit rougher.” Stiles wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and fell back onto the bed.

“I was holding back,” Derek replied as he pulled his pants up and straightened his shirt.

“Don’t. I mean, you don’t have to.” Derek paused and glanced at Stiles. He stepped closer, before deciding against whatever he was going to do, then turned and left through the window.

 

***

 

The second time was better. Stiles sucked Derek while he jerked himself off, letting Derek thrust into his throat with surprisingly minimal gagging. Afterwards, Derek thumbed Stiles’ hole as he sucked the orgasm out of him with his lips and tongue.

The third time was even better. Derek opened Stiles’ window in the middle of the night, slipping into the bed and waking him up with his lips around his cock. It was the most beautiful sight Stiles had ever seen. Derek took him all the way into his throat, and pressed two lubricated fingers into Stiles, curling them to find his prostate. Which he did, since apparently Derek Hale was some kind of sex god who Stiles had the good fortune to be sleeping with. Stiles came with Derek’s name on his lips, and a bruise on his arm from where he bit down to muffle the sounds of orgasm. Derek set a new bar for kinks Stiles didn’t know he had when he rutted against Stiles until he came, rubbing his cock on Stiles’ thighs and ass and sending ropes of cum across both of their stomachs. He bit down hard enough on Stiles’ neck as he came that he left teeth marks. Human, thankfully. Stiles was surprised that was what made Scott finally notice.

“You smell like Derek.” Scott poked Stiles when he sat down at his desk just after the first bell.

“Dude, stop smelling me.” Stiles usually had a witty rebuttal at the ready, but he had his brain sucked out through his dick the night before and had apparently dropped a couple of IQ points.

“Stiles, your neck,” Allison gasped. She reached forward but Stiles popped the collar on his shirt before she could get any closer. “Are you alright? Did something happen?” She paused before saying “actually, he does small like Derek. Even I can smell it. Wait … is that a _hickey_ on your neck, Stiles Stilinski?” Stiles groaned and sunk in his chair. Allison looked like she’d just received the best freaking news of her life. Both Scott and Allison were staring at him, clearly waiting for an explanation.

“I got into a fight with the vacuum cleaner.” Great, that was all he could come up with.

“Was that vacuum cleaner attached to a certain alpha werewolf? Was that joke a euphemism for his … size?” Allison giggled. Scott was still staring at him. Christ, his eyes were burning a hole in the side of his head.

“Look, it’s just a thing that we’re doing now. Apparently. It’s casual.” Stiles wasn’t sure whether he was attempting to explain it to Scott or himself. “Sourwolf was having a bit of a dry spell so, like the great friend I am I offered to, uh, help him out.”

“Stiles … are you _pimping yourself out_ to Derek Hale?” And Stiles supposed he might’ve been. Well, kind of. Jackson turned his head around to stare at Stiles. Stiles waved him off.

“This definitely isn’t one of your better ideas,” Scott mumbled, opening his textbook. Stiles didn’t agree. It seemed like a freaking great idea.

 

***

 

Derek started turning up every night as the full moon grew closer. While the bags under his eyes were probably permanently set there now, Stiles couldn’t have cared less. Scott kept shooting him concerned looks all the time, even spraying him with an entire can of Axe one morning, saying he smelled like sex. Which Stiles kind of wished he did. Derek was still holding back, not having gone completely there yet. The level of dismay Stiles felt made him concerned for his own mental state.

The night of the full moon the pack congregated at Derek’s house to make preparations. Since they were all able to control their transformations now, Derek didn’t have to chain any of them up. Stiles wasn’t sure why he was even there. In more snide moments, Isaac referred to him as the pack pet.

Stiles sat on the floor as the pack made arrangements to go running in the woods, half listening and half fiddling with his phone, twirling it around in his hands.

“Stay away from the town, stay away from any people, and don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to spend the night cleaning up any of your messes,” Derek addressed the werewolves in the room. Stiles was strangely aroused by Derek’s clear authority over the other wolves. An authority kink was apparently yet another thing that Derek Hale had awakened in him. He apparently did a shitty job of hiding it, as Erica shot him a knowing look. The wolves turned to walk out the door, each giving Stiles a wave as they passed. Derek closed the door behind them and turned back to Stiles. In a split second Derek had crossed the room and picked Stiles up, slamming him into the wall and curling his tongue around Stiles’. Every few seconds Derek broke the kiss to nip at Stiles’ neck, leaving small bruises amidst the moles covering Stiles’ skin. Stiles moaned when Derek rocked up into him, grinding their cocks together through their jeans. Derek caught the sound with his mouth and pressed Stiles so hard into the wood he thought he might bruise. Stiles clawed at the back of Derek’s neck and bunched his shirt up to get his hands on his back. Derek swore and stepped back from the wall, carrying Stiles up the stairs and into a bedroom. Derek’s bed was little more than a mattress on the floor, but Stiles wouldn’t have cared if Derek lay him onto a bed of freaking hot coals as long as he kept touching him.

“Please let me fuck you tonight,” Derek murmured as he ground their bulges together. Stiles didn’t think he would ever hear words more beautiful than those ones. They pulled off each other’s clothes, licking and sucking and touching as they went. As Stiles kissed his way down Derek’s stomach Derek grabbed him by the hair and hauled him back up. His eyes were bright red and he seemed to be having trouble controlling his shift. Derek flipped Stiles over so he was on his hands and knees, squirting lube onto his fingers and Stiles’ hole. Derek bit all over Stiles’ ass as he pressed his fingers into him, reveling in the sounds Stiles made as they were pushed in and out. By the time he was pushing in a third finger he was breathing so hard that Stiles thought he might pass out. Stiles reached behind himself to grab Derek’s cock and push it towards his entrance.

“I don’t have a condom,” Derek warned as he fondled Stiles’ balls. Stiles wouldn’t have cared if Derek had a bloody tentacle between his legs as long as he got fucked.

“You’re not diseased, I’m not diseased, just get on with it,” Stiles hissed. Derek obliged, pushing himself into Stiles in one long motion. Stiles bit down on the pillow in front of him, moaning loud enough to startle himself. Derek’s cock felt even bigger in his ass then it did in his mouth, if that was possible. Derek growled, and fuck if that didn’t turn Stiles on even more.

“Christ, Stiles.” Derek bit down on Stiles’ shoulder, sending a wave of pain through his body. Stiles could feel Derek shifting between forms, scratching down his back with his wolf claws.

“You can shift,” Stiles moaned. Stiles didn’t know _why_ he just suggested that, but had no time to retract his statement as Derek took the suggestion. He adjusted his position behind Stiles and began fucking him at a faster pace, slamming his cock in and out and clawing down Stiles’ back.

Stiles turned to glance back at Derek and, yep, he was definitely going to hell since he nearly came at the sight of Derek in his wolf form. Stiles reached down to jerk himself off, cumming quickly into his own hand and tightening around Derek. Derek literally howled and drove himself into Stiles’ ass for the final time, draping himself across Stiles’ back as he came to a stop. As he slowed Derek’s cock seemed to grow in size, stretching Stiles out and making him moan into the bed. Stiles began to shift uncomfortably as Derek grew inside of him.

“It’s ok,” Derek whispered, kissing the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles gritted his teeth and whimpered but steeled himself. Derek had previously mentioned a knot in passing, but Stiles hadn’t expected it to be as big as it was. For a moment he thought he was about to be split in half, when Derek moaned into the back of his neck and Stiles felt Derek release his load inside of him. After a few minutes Derek’s knot started to subside, but he didn’t remove himself from his position inside Stiles. Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted him to. Eventually Derek did pull out, leaking lube and cum onto the sheets. He left the room and came back with a towel which did basically nothing to stem the ridiculous amount of werewolf cum Stiles was apparently storing in his ass.

“I should’ve warned you.” Derek looked almost ashamed. Stiles smiled at him.

“Nah, you rocked my world.” And gave Derek a thumbs up. Derek reached down to ruffle his hair. He let Stiles stay in his bed for the night when he went out to meet the pack, and Stiles wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to want Derek to stay with him afterwards.


	2. II

Derek was in a better mood after the night of the full moon. He laughed at Stiles’ jokes and didn’t snap at any of the pack members. He also didn’t call on Stiles, not even during the next full moon. Stiles was a little disappointed, if he was honest with himself. He was being driven insane by arousal whenever he looked at, thought of, or heard Derek. Which he supposed was probably pretty normal for a teenager. After about a month he had nearly chafed his hand touching himself so much.

Things went back to as normal as possible between Derek and Stiles, if not slightly fonder than what they were a few months previous. Scott still gave him a side-eye whenever they interacted, but things were pretty normal. Until Stiles started getting sick.

“He’s given me some kind of werewolf STD,” Stiles complained as he drove Scott home in the Jeep.

“You’re probably just getting the flu,” Scott replied.

Stiles wasn’t getting the flu.

He had been throwing up for a month when he started fainting. The first time was during chemistry, when he smacked his head on the desk and had to deal with jokes from Scott for the rest of class. The second time was during lacrosse practice when he fell into Jackson from behind and nearly took him to the ground with him. The third time was in front of his dad. Stiles had ended up with his face in a bowl of spaghetti bolognaise, his eyelashes stuck together with tomato paste. His dad had driven him to the hospital in the squad car, flicking his eyes over to watch his son every few moments. Melissa McCall held his hand as she took his blood, squeezing his fingers and he bit down on his lip from the needle.

By the fourth day in hospital Stiles was sufficiently annoyed by the myriad of tests the doctors had conducted on him. Both his bloodwork and urine sample had come back abnormal, so they had repeated both again. Surprise, those also came back abnormal. Stiles had graduated to throwing up after every meal rather than just when he woke up, meaning he had to have an IV inserted which was basically his worst nightmare: a needle he couldn’t get away from.

His dad stopped by every day after work, bringing him books and fresh clothes. Scott also stopped by daily to bring his homework and help him catchup on school. Ms McCall checked on Stiles whenever she did her rounds, bringing him extra pillows and rubbing his back as he threw up. Allison called to tell him that she was looking into whether his werewolf STD theory was correct. Stiles began to hope it wasn’t, since the hospital didn’t exactly stock medication for supernatural illnesses.

On day five the doctor informed Stiles that they would take him in for an ultrasound to check for a possible tumor or ulcer in his stomach. The gel was cold on his skin, and the ultrasound tech wasn’t as gentle as she probably could have been. The screen was turned away from Stiles, but he could read the confusion and possibly _fear_ on the woman’s face. She shooed him out quite quickly, and Stiles began to get nervous. If there was something really wrong with him he couldn’t leave his dad alone. Or Scott, for that matter. Scott definitely needed Stiles more than he let on.

“Stiles,” Ms McCall called from the door of his room. She had a large folder in her hand. “I have your test results.” She gave him a warm smile and grabbed onto his hand. “Now, honey, I’m not sure how to really tell you this but hopefully it won’t be as surprising to you as it certainly is to me.” She pulled out a photo from the folder and showed it to Stiles. He wasn’t even sure what it was. It looked like a picture of a grainy television screen.

“What is that?” Stiles asked. Ms McCall squeezed his hand tighter, her nails digging into his skin slightly.

“It’s your baby, Stiles. You’re around eight weeks pregnant.” Stiles was going to kill Scott. Somehow he had tricked his mom into doing this. There was literally no other explanation.

“I know this is a lot to process, but we’ll get your dad in here and hopefully we can work this whole thing out.” Stiles stared at the wall. This was literally not possible. He was a guy. Guys don’t just spontaneously get pregnant. His dad said pretty much the same thing when it was explained to him. Ms McCall took him to the corner of the room and asked if Stiles had possibly been born female. Stiles’ dad looked like he was about to throw up. Stiles actually threw up.

Since the nurses had deemed nothing was mortally wrong with him, they discharged Stiles with a pat on the back and a bottle of prenatal vitamins. The sheriff hadn’t said a word to Stiles yet. Stiles didn’t even know what he would have wanted him to say.

The sheriff let Stiles stay home from school for a few days, turning away Scott and Allison and Lydia at the door. Stiles didn’t know what he would say to them either. His stomach had started to form a bump that was visible under tight shirts. Stiles began to wear the baggiest shirts he could find in his room.

Stiles agonized over what to say to his friends as he drove to school the Monday after he was discharged. He brushed off their questions in lieu of a stock standard “I’m fine”. Some girl in his English class asked if he had tried to kill himself. Stiles wanted to hit her. By that Wednesday Stiles couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“What do you know about werewolf babies?” he asked Allison after dragging her to the far end of the lacrosse field one lunch.

“Not a whole lot,” she replied, eyeing him up. “Why is that?”

“The doctors said I’m … uh … you know.” Stiles gestured to his stomach. He refused to use the P word. He wasn’t anywhere near ready for the P word. Scott called him in a panic late that night to ask if what he’d told Allison was true. Vowing to kill Allison the next time he saw her, Stiles verified that, yes, he was currently growing a human. Scott hung up and called him back an hour later, telling him to meet in the woods before school. Stiles nearly lost the breakfast he had actually been able to keep down when he saw Derek standing next to Scott and Allison the next morning. Derek looked white as a sheet and stared at Stiles’ feet as he walked up to meet them.

“Figured Derek might be your best bet. Coming from a wolf family and all,” Scott explained sheepishly. He should be sheepish. He just completely outed Stiles. After a beat of silence Scott addressed Derek.

“Well, Mr Born Not Bit Who Comes From A Long Line of Born Not Bit Wolves, what do we do?” Derek continued to look terrified but didn’t answer.

“I could ask my da—?”

“NO.” Stiles was glad Scott agreed with his dislike of that option. The death option. Since he would absolutely die if Allison asked her father about his … situation. Still not ready to use the P word yet. Or possibly ever. _I’ll call it that when Scott stops acting like I’m about to break and Derek wipes the look off his face that makes me think he’s about to throw up._ That was Stiles’ rationale. And at this rate neither of those things would happen, so he was all clear for now.

“I wouldn’t have to mention Stiles. I could just pretend to be really interested in learning more about werewolves,” Allison pleaded.

“Guess that’s probably the best bet,” Derek sighed. Stiles shot him a look.

“No, it’s not. Your dad will kill me. Like, real murder.”

“You need to know what you’re dealing with.” Derek finally met his eyes. Stiles wondered if he looked as scared as Derek did. When they dispersed, Stiles decided to just go home for the day. Allison called later that night, rousing Stiles from his second nap of the day.

“So after having a super awkward conversation with my dad I found a book that sounds kind of like it could be of help. Did you want me to bring it over?”

“You didn’t tell him about me, did you?” Stiles wasn’t sure how long he could keep his situation a secret, but the Argents could never know that werewolves were involved.

“No, but let’s just say he might actually kill Scott the next time he sees him. And not because of werewolf business.”

“Thanks for taking the werewolf sex blame for me,” Stiles smiled. He didn’t think he’d smiled since he’d been discharged from the hospital. “And yes, please come round.”

Allison must have driven over at twice the speed limit because she was knocking on Stiles’ front door in under five minutes. Stiles sprinted to the door, beating his dad there by about a foot.

“Hi, Mr Stilinski,” Allison smiled at Stiles’ father.

“We’re just going up to my room to study,” Stiles supplied, eyeing the large brown book in Allison’s hands. His dad waved them through. Stiles grabbed the book from Allison’s hands as soon as the door to his room was closed.

“Now, it’s a little bit obscure and I don’t really understand it,” Allison said as she flipped through the pages. “But there was a quote I translated from Latin which basically says the alpha is at his peak during the full moon next to a picture of some babies. But I didn’t have a real chance to look before I called you. You might have better luck with Lydia, to be honest. At least she can actually read Latin without a translator app.”

They poured over the book as best they could, stopping on any relevant pictures and skimming the pages looking for key words. Allison was typing notes onto Stiles’ computer while he translated from his phone when Derek climbed in through Stiles’ window.

“We need to talk,” he directed towards Stiles without actually looking in his direction.

“Guess I’ll be going,” Allison said. “Keep the book.” She squeezed Stiles’ hand on her way out. Derek sat in the chair she had just vacated, running his hands through his hair. Stiles just watched him. When Derek failed to start up a conversation Stiles went back to translating passages of text. None of it seemed to be relevant. There was plenty of pages dedicated to werewolf mothers, but so far no mention of a human carrying a werewolf. Which was shit. Although, Stiles did think he deserved the title of Virgin Mary after finding literally no information on his condition. Well, maybe not ‘Virgin’ Mary since the filthy things he had done with Derek couldn’t be considered virginal in any sense of the word. Derek cleared his throat and Stiles looked up.

“Don’t get pissed, but I have to ask. Is it mine?” Stiles just about saw red.

“Who the hell else’s could it be, Derek?” He yelled. Stiles didn’t even care about his father hearing anymore. “Who else could I have been _fucking_? Know any other alphas hanging around Beacon Hills during the full moon? Because I sure as shit don’t.” Derek still wasn’t looking at him, but his hands were clenched into fists resting on his knees. “I did this for _you,_ Derek. I gave myself to you and this is what you give back? And then have the audacity to ask if it’s yours? Fuck you, Derek.” Half of him expected Derek to punch him. The other half expected him to make a beeline for the window and not come back. Suddenly a sob wrenched its way out of Stiles’ throat and he slid down the wall, curling his knees to his chest on the floor.

“What am I supposed to do, Derek?” he whispered. “Everyone will know soon enough and it’ll be hell. Not to mention I’m seventeen. I can’t raise a kid. That’s if it doesn’t _kill_ me first since there’s no way for it to get out naturally and the doctors won’t know how. I’m not sure how it’s even in there in the first place since it’s not like I have a freaking _uterus._ ” Now that the floodgates had opened Stiles couldn’t close them. Sobs wracked his body and left him gasping for air. He hadn’t cried as hard since his mom had died. But even then he hadn’t felt as helpless as he did at that moment. He felt Derek’s arm wrap around him, and the warmth of his body as he pulled him in.

“I’m sorry, Stiles. I’m so sorry,” Derek whispered into Stiles’ hair. He seemed to hug Stiles tighter with every sob, letting him bury his head into the alpha’s chest. They stayed like that until Stiles’ sobs disappeared, and even then Derek stayed where he was, stroking Stiles’ hair and holding him together. Stiles thought he might shatter if Derek let go.

Sheriff Stilinski found them like that a few hours later when he went to check on his son. Stiles had fallen asleep leaning against Derek, face buried in his chest. Derek slept with his arms around Stiles and his chin resting atop Stiles’ head. He wrapped a blanket around them and shut the door quietly behind him.

 

***

 

Derek had left by the time Stiles awoke the next morning, eyes throbbing and head pounding. On the plus side, he didn’t throw up. That was getting really old, really fast. He pulled on jeans and an old shirt that he thought might have once been Scott’s and made his way downstairs. His father sat at the kitchen table drinking a coffee, glancing up when Stiles walked in the room.

“Have a seat, son.” Stiles obliged. “I heard you last night. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you right now, and I would pretend to be able to empathize with your situation, but you know you can always talk to me. I’ll always listen.” Stiles’ hormones decided to make a surprise appearance again by making him tear up.

“God, not again,” Stiles mumbled, wiping his eyes. “Thanks though, dad.” His dad walked around the table to pull Stiles into a hug, which was gladly reciprocated.

“Not that I’m not slightly disappointed in your choosing to get knocked up by a murder suspect, but if I was to assume there’s more going on here than there looks I would be correct, wouldn’t I?” The Sheriff ruffled Stiles’ hair.

“Murder _suspect,_ dad. I could’ve gone a step further,” Stiles smiled.

Despite many concerned looks from Allison and Scott over the course of the day, Stiles had his best day in nine weeks. It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Derek was waiting at his Jeep after school let out. It was hard not to notice how many girls looked Derek’s way. Stiles felt a pang of – pride? Possibly. That fine specimen glad in leather and sunglasses was there for him. Take that, girls.

“Hey,” Stiles called to Derek as he approached. Derek smiled at him all toothy. If Stiles had been anyone else he probably would have swooned.

“I’m sorry I left you last night,” Derek whispered in Stiles’ ear as he took his backpack. Aaaand Stiles had officially transformed into a teenage girl. A boy he found attractive was carrying his backpack. Christ. Derek fished Stiles’ keys out of the front pocket of the backpack and unlocked the Jeep. “I wanted to gather up some things that might help you. I also borrowed Allison’s book. Some large inaccuracies in that, let me tell you.” Stiles reached over to grab the keys from Derek’s hand with little success. He received another toothy smile. “I’ll drive,” Derek informed him.

“My life is officially a rom com,” Stiles muttered. He jogged around to the passenger side to prevent Derek from doing something even worse, like opening Stiles’ door for him. To Stiles’ surprise they drove to his house, Derek parking against the curb and killing the engine.

“Now, you may not believe this, but we can actually enter through my front door,” Stiles joked, grabbing his backpack and heading across the lawn.

“Already used the window when I came to drop stuff off,” Derek retorted. The sheriff wasn’t home so Stiles had no qualms leading Derek up to his room. On the floor there was an array of books, bottles and jars piled on top of each other.

“Jesus, how many trips did you make?” Stiles picked up a jar full of bright green powder and shook it, half expecting it to explode. It didn’t. Derek handed him a bottle of blue liquid.

“That should stop morning sickness. If you have that, anyway. That one helps with hunger cravings, that one with cramps,” Derek said as he pointed to different containers on Stiles’ floor.

“Where did you get all this stuff? There’s not exactly many baby werewolves wandering around your house?”

“There used to be,” Derek said softly. “Most of this stuff I already had. Not everything got destroyed in the fire. The rest I knew how to get. The books are on werewolf pregnancy, so how much of it will actually apply to you, I don’t know.” Stiles reacted only minimally to the P word this time.

“I didn’t think there was a cure for morning sickness, but if this works I’ll be forever indebted to you.” Derek grinned.

“As far as I know there isn’t a cure for sickness caused by human babies. Werewolf ones, on the other hand, are much easier.”

They spent the rest of the night researching together, comparing notes. Stiles learned that a werewolf baby would likely need a few weeks less gestation than its human counterpart, which had its pros and its cons. He would also feel movement earlier.

“There’s nothing in here about _why_ this happened.” Stiles was frustrated. “You don’t just become spontaneously pregnant.” Derek levelled his gaze at him.

“It had to have been a combination of the full moon, the knot, and your willingness,” Derek explained. Stiles supposed that was probably the best answer he was going to get. It wasn’t exactly good enough, but it was all he would get.

 

***

 

Derek came by every day for the next week, bringing with him new books, elixirs, and foods. Apparently the baby really liked rabbit, since Stiles wolfed it down every time Derek brought it. His stomach had really started to pop, leading to some weird glances in school. Stiles didn’t suppose he could go much longer without the rumor mill churning. The benefit of something so unbelievable happening to him was that nobody would actually believe it.

One Saturday when Derek climbed through Stiles’ window he paused and dropped the bag he was carrying.

“Derek, what are you—“ Stiles’ question was cut short by Derek dropping to his knees in front of Stiles’ stomach. He pulled up Stiles’ shirt and placed a palm on his stomach, sending a jolt of _something_ through Stiles. “Is everything ok?” Derek smiled wider than Stiles had thought possible.

“I can hear him,” Derek whispered, pressing his face to Stiles’ stomach. “His heart sounds strong.” For a moment Stiles thought Derek might cry.

“Who says they’re a ‘he’,” Stiles asked playfully. Derek rolled his eyes, but planted a kiss on Stiles’ stomach. The gesture sent a wave of fondness through Stiles. “I know the past month hasn’t exactly been peachy, you’re still my friend. As long as you don’t leave me to be some terrible cliché of a pregnant teenager. And if I had to get werewolf knocked up by any guy I’m glad it was you, Derek Hale.”

“How romantic,” Derek teased, but he seemed happy. “Just so you know, I won’t leave you. Or the baby. I guess I should probably be calling them a pup.”

“So the baby’s a guaranteed werewolf then?” Stiles asked. The question had been playing on his mind for a while.

“Probably. If the wolf genes were strong enough to do this in the first place then it wouldn’t make sense for it to not be a pup.”

Derek began staying over most nights, sleeping on Stiles’ desk chair with his forehead on his arms. For the first few nights Stiles let him stay there. He started feeling guilty when he took a nap in that position one afternoon and woke up with a crick in his neck. After that he started inviting Derek to share the bed. Hey, he wasn’t a total monster.

At week thirteen Stiles was awoken by a stirring in his stomach. He dropped his hand down to rub his belly and was met with a bump on his palm from inside his body. Stiles shot up to a sitting position and shoved Derek who awoke with a glare. Stiles grabbed his hand and pressed it to his bump, feeling the baby kick against the pressure. Derek’s smile spread across his face. He grabbed Stiles by the back of the head and pressed their lips together. He pulled back and muttered an apology, but Stiles grabbed him and kissed him back.

With his second trimester came more hormones. Sexual hormones. Stiles couldn’t step into the shower without touching himself, and it was getting out of hand. Scott had taken to avoiding him in the halls on his worst days, saying it was too disturbing to smell the arousal and sexual frustration radiating off his best friend. Erica ends up cornering him in the bathroom and splashing water in his face.

“You’re like a walking powder keg,” she said as she handed Stiles a wad of paper towels. “Isaac and Boyd don’t even want to go near you anymore.”

“Well neither does Scott,” Stiles replied. “They should just deal. It’s not like there’s anything I can do about it.” Erica raised her eyebrow.

“Isn’t there?” Stiles was lost. He was usually lost but this time he was very lost.

“Uh, not without giving myself a Chinese burn or something equally horrific.”

“As much as it weirds me out to say this, can’t you just get Derek to take care of it? Wasn’t it you doing that for him that got you all pupped up in the first place? Not like it can happen twice. Or just get a dildo. Either one.” Erica had a point. Stiles didn’t exactly like being a pariah where his wolf friends were concerned. And Derek did kind of owe him.

Stiles never actually had to bring it up. The next day he walked into his room after his second shower of the day to see Derek staring at him with blown pupils. He walked slowly towards Stiles.

“I could hear you touching yourself in there. You know I can help you with that, right?” Stiles gulped. Derek looked absolutely predatory.

“I mean, I won’t say no to that.”

The next morning Derek sucked Stiles’ cock as he woke up, pulling an orgasm from him within a few minutes. And when Derek leaned over to kiss him afterwards, Stiles couldn’t not kiss him back.

 

***

 

Stiles was surprised it took his dad as long as it did to bring up that Derek had basically moved in. While his favourite point of exit and entry had been Stiles’ bedroom window, his dad wasn’t an idiot. So when he knocked on Stiles’ bedroom door one morning and called out for _both_ of them to come down for breakfast Stiles wasn’t exactly shocked. That didn’t make the prospect any less awkward, though. The sheriff had picked up a range of bagels, including a whole bag of Stiles’ favourite.

“This is total bribery,” Stiles said through a bready mouthful. The sheriff shrugged. Derek stared at the wall.

“So, you’re the boy with the super sperm, I presume?” Stiles spit bagel all over the table. Neither his father nor Derek so much as looked at him.

“Apparently so, sir. Would have been nice to know beforehand, as I’m sure you can imagine.” What was even happening at that table? Why was this Stiles’ life?

“Being a fan of safe sex might have helped.”

“Dad, please stop talking,” Stiles pleaded. His dad’s face seemed to soften when he met his eyes.

“Well, just try not to get linked to anymore murders. Wouldn’t want to put you away this time.” The sheriff stood up and pat Stiles on the shoulder. After hearing the door slam, Stiles groaned.

“Well that was terrible.” Derek was cleaning Stiles’ bagel bits off the table.

“I hope nobody ever calls me ‘super sperm’ again,” he muttered, sending Stiles into peals of laughter.

Of course the whole pack ended up calling Derek by that nickname after Stiles sent out a group text.

 

***

 

Stiles managed to convince Derek to come to his next ultrasound with him after shooting down claims that it would somehow blow his werewolf cover if he was seen there with Stiles.

“It would be no different than Scott coming with me,” Stiles reasoned. Well it would be slightly different but he didn’t need to mention that to Derek.

Ms McCall handled Stiles’ ultrasound at his own request. The tech had freaked out at his last one and called him an abomination, so he wasn’t all too keen for a replay of that experience. Ms McCall looked like a proud parent when the baby popped up on the screen, and she didn’t say anything when Derek kissed Stiles’ forehead when he thought she wasn’t looking. Stiles asked for a print of the ultrasound photo and made a copy for Derek and a copy for his dad. He wasn’t sure which one looked happier when it gave it to them.

 

***

 

By that point in Stiles’ pregnancy he had begun showing enough for people to whisper about him in the halls. People like Jackson who were in the know looked almost scared of him. Derek threatened to beat him up when Stiles mentioned it. He also had to stop playing lacrosse. Well, pretending to play lacrosse. He had managed to avoid the contact parts of training up until then, but now he couldn’t risk getting sent out on the field during a game. Coach didn’t question him, which worried Stiles a little.

The benefit of having a visible bump was being waited on hand and foot by his friends and Derek. Every time he asked for something someone would run to get it. That he could definitely get used to. The pack had taken to setting themselves up around him in the cafeteria like a wall, glaring at anyone who shot a look Stiles’ way. Every lunch, without fail, one of them would excitedly inform Stiles that they could hear the baby’s heartbeat. Stiles’ pregnant state apparently afforded him extra comforts of not being teased about his whatever with Derek. He couldn’t exactly call him his boyfriend since they weren’t dating. They weren’t really sleeping together so he couldn’t call him his fuck buddy. Erica had taken to referring to Derek as Stiles’ baby daddy. Derek seemed to prefer that to ‘super sperm’ since he never rebutted or corrected Erica.

Derek had become almost weirdly protective. He wanted to smell everything Stiles ate or drank, wanted to drive him everywhere, and only let him out of his sight for school when the rest of the pack was around. No amount of “dude, chill out” from Stiles was enough to curb his newfound hobby of being Stiles’ babysitter.

“Doesn’t it bother you? Derek being all up in your business all the time?” Erica asked him one day at lunch.

“Well he’s all up in the baby’s business, really. I’m sure he’ll calm down once it’s, you know, out.” Stiles chased some vitamins down with a horrible yellow thing Derek had made him promise to drink.

“I dunno. I think he has it pretty bad for you. You’re like his _mate_ or something,” Isaac interjected, drinking something which actually looked appetizing. Stiles cursed him. For the drink and the comment.

“If by mate you mean good buddy then, yeah, I’m his mate.” Stiles’ comment was met with rolled eyes and raised eyebrows around the table. When he picked up his phone later he saw Scott had changed Derek’s contact name to Baby Daddy/Mate. Derek had regarded that one with a raised eyebrow when Stiles showed it to him.

“What’s so funny about it?” Derek looked between the phone and Stiles. His eyebrow was apparently permanently affixed in a raised position.

“Scott changed it. I thought it was funny. Calling you my mate.”

“Well, you’re carrying my pup.”

“So?”

“I knotted you.”

“ _So_?”

“Stiles, what do you think a mate _is_?” Derek looked exasperated.

“I don’t know, like a husband or something?” Stiles scratched the back of his head. He needed to pee for the fourth time that hour.

“That’s the human equivalent. It’s different for werewolves. We’re pack animals, so it goes off instinct.” Derek walked over to him, running his hand through Stiles’ hair. “It’s not just about love or feelings, it’s about what’s best for the pack and best for survival.” Stiles swallowed heavily. Only he could have managed to catch a freaking _wolf mate_ without realizing it or meaning to.

“Do I even get a say in this? At least court me first.” The prospect of what Derek was saying shouldn’t have made him as nervous as it did. After all, the things Derek said were true. It just wasn’t really what Stiles wanted to hear.

“I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to do,” Derek whispered. “I thought maybe you wanted to.”

“I don’t even know what this is. Or what we are.” Stiles gestured between them and his bump. “It’s not like we planned this.”

“But if we did it again you’d do it the same, wouldn’t you?” Derek looked so earnest and open. It was a look Stiles hadn’t seen before, but it was a good look on the usually stoic alpha. Which is why it was so hard to think he might be breaking his heart.

“Are you crazy, Derek? This whole thing has been a mess. I’m a _pregnant dude._ I could _die._ If I went back I would have never offered to help you in the first place. I should be playing lacrosse and meeting girls and drinking with Scott in the woods. Instead every day I have to go to school and be stared at, then sit at home with swollen feet with a guy who barely lets me pee by myself. What part of this do you think is fun for me?” Stiles took a deep breath, finally letting his feelings out. Derek looked like he’d been punched in the gut. He dropped his hand from Stiles’ hair and stepped back, staring at him. Stiles felt the familiar curl of anxiety in his stomach. “Derek, I—“ But he didn’t get to finish because Derek stormed out the door. _At least he’s leaving through the door instead of the window,_ Stiles thought snidely, before chastising himself. He didn’t actually want to hurt Derek.

Stiles pressed his palms into his closed eyes hard enough to see white as he struggled to control his breathing. No way was he having a panic attack over Derek freaking _Hale._

Derek didn’t come back that night or the next. By the third day Stiles called Scott to see if he’d seen Derek.

“Yeah, he’s at his house, we went running in the woods earlier. Thought it was weird that he wasn’t still attached to you, is everything ok?” Scott’s voice felt like a security blanket that Stiles wanted to wrap himself in, as weird as that was.

“I fucked up, Scott,” Stiles said, rubbing his hand against his bump. “I said some shit that I probably shouldn’t have and now Derek’s hurt. Not pissed but, like, actually hurt.”

“Just talk to him. You’re like a freaking girl.” Scott meant that jokingly. At least Stiles chose to assume he did.

“I don’t think he wants to talk to me. He hasn’t come over or left anything here or lurked in the bushes or anything else that screams ‘Derek’.” Since Scott offered up no more helpful information Stiles ended the call and spent the night staring at his phone and drafting text messages that he never sent. He pressed his face into the pillow usually claimed by Derek and wrapped an extra blanket around him, trying to mimic the warmth which usually radiated off the werewolf. His werewolf. If he hadn’t completely blown it, that is.


	3. III

Derek lasted a week staying away from Stiles. Stiles never actually saw him since he would come when Stiles was at school, but things had been moved around or sometimes missing altogether by the time Stiles got home. Usually the things that went missing were put back the next day, so Stiles wasn’t really sure what Derek’s game plan was. He didn’t mind, per se, until Derek took his last pair of jeans that fit. He didn’t want to say maternity jeans because he would _never_ admit to wearing maternity jeans. But they were gone all the same. Damn Derek. The annoyance was enough for him to push aside his stubbornness and actually call Derek. He was surprised he answered, if Stiles was honest.

“Stiles.” No happy greetings then. Alright.

“Fantastic to hear from you as well, Derek.” Stiles could _feel_ Derek’s glare through the phone. “As much as I love you snooping through my possessions when I’m out I would really love some of the jeans back. Like, now. Since they’re the only pants that fit properly.”

“I didn’t take your jeans. Why would I take your jeans?”

“That’s what I want to know.”

“Well I didn’t. You probably just misplaced them,” Derek said through gritted teeth. Stiles hung up. He had to wear sweats to the shop to buy more. No way was he not going to send Derek the bill.

The pack began not showing up to school. Stiles barely noticed. The baby was starting to really bug him with all its kicks. Every five minutes he copped a dig to the ribs from the inside. He refrained from making a horribly cliché joke about the baby being a future soccer player. Derek probably would have. As much as Stiles’ stubborn personality didn’t want him to, he missed Derek. He missed seeing him and touching him and talking to him.

After a week of Scott not coming to school Stiles was beginning to worry.

“Hey, man, are you ok?” Stiles had driven over to Scott’s hoping to catch him there instead of at Allison’s, or wherever he and the pack went these days. “Haven’t seen you in school all week.” Scott mumbled a reply but didn’t meet Stiles’ eyes, shifting his gaze to every other conceivable point in the room except for Stiles’ face.

“Dude, what are you not telling me?” Stiles could read Scott like a book. Scott looked pained.

“I’m not supposed to tell you…”

“Tell me what? Has something happened?” Stiles blamed his anxiety on the pregnancy hormones.

“Derek said not to say anything, but there’s another pack in town. Well, not a pack since it’s only two wolves, but ones an alpha. They’ve been dicking around a bit, leaving stuff at Derek’s place and following some of us around. Derek wanted us to keep our distance from you so we don’t lead them to you, or anything. See, he cares. In his weird Derek way.”

“ _Why_ has nobody told me? Phones exist, you know. Handy little things they are.” Stiles was pissed. His situation didn’t automatically disqualify him from helping the pack. Freaking Derek.

Scott didn’t fill him in on much more than that, citing bodily harm from his alpha if he put Stiles somehow in harm’s way. Stiles _really_ didn’t like being treated like such a delicate flower. Apparently everyone had forgotten how much he had taken for the pack in the past, physically and otherwise. He told Scott as much. It was met with a shrug. Freaking Scott.

Stiles decided to go confront Derek himself, since apparently he wasn’t planning on gracing Stiles with his presence at any point in the near future. He drove his Jeep towards Derek’s house, expecting him to be there. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to say. He was equal parts sorry and mad about what had happened a few weeks prior. Sorry because he was a dick, and mad because Derek was a dick. _With this much dickish behaviour going on the baby’s bound to be a boy,_ Stiles thought as he maneuvered the Jeep out of the town and into the woods.

He really should have expected what would happen. Once the lights of the houses gave way to the darkness of the woods Stiles began to hallucinate. Or at least he assumed he was hallucinating because the weird shapes passing by his Jeep couldn’t be real, he reasoned. Until one of them crashed into the side of the Jeep, anyway. The shock nearly made Stiles run off the road.

“Fucking deer,” he yelled, slapping his hands on the steering wheel. Getting out to inspect the damage was probably not the best idea he’d ever had, as evidenced by the almost immediate appearance of an unfamiliar werewolf in front of him. The wolf was big, bigger than Derek, and had glowing red eyes set deep in its face. Its claws were half the size of Stiles’ fingers and the scent of earth radiated off of it. Stiles stepped backwards into his Jeep, fumbling for the handle. The wolf began to advance on Stiles without changing into its human form, which was possibly the most terrifying experience Stiles had had all year. _Why_ hadn’t he listened to Scott and just gone home. He was going to die alone in the woods because of his own stupidity. Fantastic. Dying by his own stupidity was exactly how Stiles assumed he would eventually go, so at least he was doing what he loved.

Stiles was steeling himself for the inevitable slash of claws across his neck when he heard the most beautiful sound of his life; a loud growl. Derek leapt in front of Stiles making a truly terrifying growling sound and baring his teeth to the other alpha. Neither showed any sign of backing down and Stiles thought he might have to start running since it was clearly about to get ugly. Thankfully Erica and Isaac appeared from the darkness, baring their teeth at the unwelcome wolf who howled but turned tail and ran. Stiles thought he might collapse. Derek whirled around and grabbed Stiles by the arms, any trace of his wolf self wiped from his features.

“What the hell are you _doing_ here, Stiles?” Derek actually looked scared. Which was both a relief for Stiles in some sick, twisted way. At least Derek still cared about him enough to fear for his life.

“I came to see you. Wanted to make sure you weren’t dead, at least.” Stiles was getting far too turned on by the way Derek was holding his arms.

“So you decided to make sure I wasn’t dead by getting yourself killed?”

“Pssh. I was fine. I had it handled.” Derek just glared at him. Stiles pretended not to notice Derek’s hand on his bump. It felt nice. Derek turned to address the two wolves who had been watching them have their little tiff.

“I’ll go home with Stiles. The alpha has his scent now, so you two will need to patrol the woods.” Erica and Isaac nodded before melting back into the darkness.

“You don’t need to come I’m fine.” Derek just herded him to the passenger side of the Jeep. They were silent on the drive back to Stiles’ house, Stiles fiddling with his hands and Derek white-knuckling the steering wheel. He waited only until the Jeep was in park before he unleashed on Stiles.

“You could have been killed, Stiles. Easily. That alpha is dangerous. What would the pack do if something happened to you and the pup? What would _I_ do?”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered. “Not just for tonight, but for before. I’ve been really stupid lately. Not sure how much I can realistically blame on the baby and how much is just me.” At least that cracked a smile from Derek.

“You do have a habit of getting yourself into compromising situations,” Derek smiled at him.

As soon as Stiles opened the door to his bedroom he knew something was wrong. Derek’s eyes flashed red and he bared his teeth, pushing past Stiles into the bedroom. Stiles glanced around but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“What’s up?” he asked Derek. Derek sniffed the air and growled.

“The alpha. He’s been here. His beta too.” Stiles’ blood ran cold.

“I’ve been missing things from my room. I assumed it was you, coming around to check on me while I was at school. Remember, I called you about taking my jeans.”

“They’ve got your scent. That must have been why they were here. We weren’t careful enough.” Derek sifted through the papers on Stiles’ desk.

“Um, are they dangerous? Like, more so than a normal wolf?” Stiles placed a hand on Derek’s arm to stop him from fidgeting.

“We don’t really know what they want, but it can’t be good. If you’re friendly you don’t act that way towards a human, particularly another alpha’s mate.” Derek stopped short and glanced at Stiles. “Sorry, slip of the tongue.” God damn Derek. His beautiful eyes looked scared, fishing for Stiles’ reaction.

“It’s ok,” Stiles reassured him. “I shouldn’t have flipped out about that in the first place. I was scared and hormonal and I wasn’t really thinking. You didn’t deserve that. I was caught off guard. Just … ask me first next time, yeah?” Derek paused for a moment before nodding. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and placed it on his stomach. “Derek Jr missed you. He’s been kicking me nonstop the past few weeks since I last saw you.” Derek looked so unbearably _sweet._ He leaned down to press his lips to Stiles’ belly which just about melted Stiles’ heart. “I hope the baby has your eyes,” Stiles blurted out before he could help himself. Derek’s eyes were goddamn gorgeous, anybody with a pulse could see that. Well, Derek as a whole was gorgeous.

“I hope it has your smile,” Derek replied. He ran his thumb over Stiles’ lip sending butterflies through his stomach. “And your sense of humor.”

“Let’s be honest, it’ll probably look exactly like you thanks to your wolfy genes. All I’ll have is its name,” Stiles said as he rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure it was actually a clone of Derek in his stomach and he was just a glorified incubator for the next Hale generation.

“What do you mean its name?” Derek looked confused.

“Its name. You know, the thing everyone has to identify them.”

“Why do you have its name?” This was not the conversation Stiles expected to be having.

“I mean, it can’t exactly have yours. Imagine how many questions that would raise, not to mention eyebrows. People are starting to notice, you know, and when the baby gets here there won’t be any hiding it.” Derek’s eyebrows furrowed.

“But it’s a part of the Hale pack. I’m its father.” Stiles bristled at the comment possibly more than he should have. Blame it on the hormones, he guessed.

“Despite the whole not being able to fit into pants because of the baby bump thing, I sure as shit won’t be its mother. Anyway, we can work this out another time. It’s not like we’re running out of time here. The kid isn’t going anywhere very fast.”

“Not true,” Derek supplied.

“What do you mean?” Stiles _really_ hated fishing for answers.

“Human pregnancies last longer. Werewolf ones are far shorter. They’re sometimes triggered by a full moon starting from seven months.”

“And you _didn’t think to tell me_?” Stiles asked, his tone becoming increasingly exasperated. Derek just stared at him. That meant he could be nearly at the halfway mark of his pregnancy. Which, as much as he disliked the symptoms, was far less terrifying than the actual _baby_ he would have to take care of after it was over. And not even a normal baby, a freaking werewolf baby. Stiles groaned and flopped onto his bed. Derek came over to stroke his hair, massaging his scalp which was surprisingly relaxing.

“You should sleep,” Derek whispered. His fingers paused in Stiles’ hair. “I can go, if you want me to.” Stiles shook his head.

“Please don’t go. Stay.” He grabbed onto Derek’s hand and pulled himself to a sitting position. “Despite my previous comments of the asshole variety, I can’t do this alone. I need you. _We_ need you.” He didn’t think Derek had looked softer than in that moment. Stiles felt a pang of guilt. Derek had no family. What family he had left after the fire was snuffed out, and his pack hadn’t exactly been all too loyal to begin with. While Stiles no longer had a mother, his dad did his best and he could certainly call his friends his family. Derek seemed so alone, living in the burnt out husk of his childhood home out in the middle of the woods, the smell of stale smoke permeating everything. Stiles stared into Derek’s eyes. Slowly he inched closer, weaving his head through Derek’s hair. Derek did nothing to stop Stiles pressing his lips softly to Derek’s, moving them when he felt Derek start to kiss back. The kiss was slow and sweet, not one of arousal and need, but one of love and comfort. The kiss made Stiles’ head spin, and grabbed onto Derek’s leather jacket to steady himself. Derek smiled against his lips and lay Stiles down on the bed without breaking the kiss. They continued to kiss, sliding their tongues together and entwining their hands. Derek pulled his mouth off of Stiles’ to kiss down his neck and chest, pulling up his green shirt as he went. He stopped at Stiles’ stomach, placing both of his hands across the pale expanse and receiving a small kick from the baby in response.

“He’s going to be a star soccer player,” Derek said against Stiles’ skin.

“I freaking _knew_ you would say that,” Stiles laughed. His laughter cut short when he felt Derek lean forward and rub his cheek against Stiles’ stomach, his stubble grating slightly and leaving the skin sensitive. He nuzzled up and down the expanse, punctuating it with small kisses as he went. _So_ this _is the Derek Hale no one else gets to see,_ Stiles thought. If he was honest with himself, he enjoyed that there were parts of Derek that only he was privy to. He giggled when Derek moved his kisses slightly lower, moving along the waistband of his khakis. Derek smiled against his skin and mouthed along Stiles’ hipbone, sucking a hickey into the skin. Stiles groaned, realizing he was already hard. It took basically nothing anymore. Derek raised an eyebrow at him. Stiles shrugged in reply. Derek took his time removing Stiles’ clothes, as if giving him a chance to say no. Stiles hadn’t been touched by anyone but himself in weeks, so nothing short of the goddamn apocalypse would have made him push Derek away. Possibly not even that.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Derek whispered, staring down at Stiles lying naked on the bed. Stiles squirmed slightly as Derek raked his eyes up his body, drawing invisible constellations among the moles and imagining all the marks he had previously put onto the canvas of Stiles’ body. Stiles put his hand on Derek’s head and gently pushed him down towards his erection.

“Could you just – oh god.” Stiles was interrupted by Derek swallowing him down to the hilt, sucking all the way down to the base. Stiles swore as Derek fondled his balls as he sucked, rolling them around in his palm. Stiles wanted to send a gift basket to whoever taught Derek to suck cock because _god._ He _whimpered_ , for god sake, when Derek took his mouth off of Stiles’ dick, giving one last flick to the tip with his tongue before forcing three of his fingers into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles licked up and down Derek’s fingers, mimicking the blowjob the other man had paused. Derek followed Stiles’ mouth with his eyes, licking his lips every time Stiles moaned. Which was a lot. Hey, he was now not only a teenage guy, but a _pregnant_ teenage guy which is, like, double the hormones. Derek pulled his fingers from Stiles’ mouth with a pop, bringing them down to rub at his hole. Stiles had been waiting far too long for proper friction in that area, and almost came immediately. Derek reached up to grab a pillow from behind Stiles’ head and planted it under his hips, leaving Stiles completely exposed. He might have been embarrassed, if Derek had left any time between then and licking a wet stripe over Stiles’ hole. Which he hadn’t. The guy ate ass like it was the last thing he would ever do. Stiles’ moans grew increasingly louder as Derek pointed his tongue to venture inside of Stiles, pulling his ass cheeks apart to give himself more access. Stiles had to pull a pillow over his face to muffle the sounds of pleasure when Derek pushed two fingers into him and licked around them, sinking his tongue in and pushing more slick inside Stiles. It was all over when Derek fucked him with three fingers and swallowed his cock down at the same time, licking all the way down and hollowing his cheeks. He swallowed around Stiles while his cock was buried in his throat, milking his orgasm from him as Stiles cried out Derek’s name, his leg muscles spasming and his fingers twisting in the sheets. Derek pushed himself up to a sitting position, working his own cock with his hand, digging into Stiles’ leg with his fingers, pulling the pillow off of Stiles’ face as the other boy came down.

“Fuck me,” Stiles commanded, breathlessly. Derek didn’t hesitate to obey, spitting into his palm and rubbing it down his cock. The lack of lube meant there was more of a burn than usual, but Stiles was so blissed out that he didn’t care. Derek’s cock was leaking so much precum he slipped into Stiles with little effort, rocking his hips back and forth to adjust. He draped himself over Stiles, bracing himself on one side with his elbow, and pulling Stiles’ leg over his shoulder with the other. The first proper thrust made Stiles cry out and throw back his head in pleasure. The new angle pushed Derek’s cock into his prostate with every thrust, making his cock instantly fill with blood again. Derek felt a twinge of pain as Stiles raked his nails up and down his back, digging them into his ass and drawing a small amount of blood along his shoulder blades. Stiles came quickly, his back arching off the bed and shooting cum all down Derek’s chest. Derek followed quickly when Stiles yanked on the hand holding up his legs and brought it to his stomach, pressing Derek’s palm into the baby bump. Derek buried his head in Stiles’ neck as he came, biting down on the skin and leaving a mark that would be sure to turn bright purple the next day. They slept like that, with Derek’s head on Stiles’ chest and his hand on their baby, Stiles’ hand stroking Derek’s back. He couldn’t help but smile at the vulnerable side of the alpha werewolf, who made small sounds in his sleep and nuzzled at Stiles’ skin, as if trying to burrow down into him. Stiles was hit by a wave of realization that Derek was his _mate,_ in every sense of the word _._ His next realization took him less by surprise. He didn’t mind at all.


	4. IIII

Stiles was relieved that he and Derek seemed to be back to their weird version of normal, all hostility absent from their interactions. The new alpha werewolf and his beta were nowhere to be found for the next two weeks, both calming and worrying Stiles. Stiles took comfort in the fact that there was no alpha around every corner waiting to rip his throat out, but Derek had other ideas.

“They’re biding their time. Building up a plan. We need to be on our toes,” Derek addressed the pack. Since Stiles’ encounter with the alpha in the woods, Derek had been convening the pack at Scott’s house, not wanting Stiles anywhere near the woods, but also not willing to leave him alone or draw the alpha towards Stiles’ house for any reason. The pack hadn’t left Stiles’ side since the incident in the woods, Derek driving Stiles to school where Scott would be waiting in the parking lot. A pack member sat next to Stiles in each of his classes, walking with him everywhere from the cafeteria to the bathroom. The constant guard made Stiles feel caged and irritable, so Derek took to sitting outside of Stiles’ window some afternoons to give him space for a few hours. After checking all crevices of the room for possible werewolves, of course.

Now that Stiles knew he could very well be past the halfway mark in his pregnancy, he started to get serious about what would happen post-birth. His dad wanted him to enroll in a few run-of-the-mill parenting classes, showing him how to do things like burp and change the baby, but Stiles couldn’t bring himself to. Lest he dress up as a woman, he didn’t want to go through the stares and whispered comments he knew would greet him from the other pregnant couples. It was bad enough going through it at school, though at least there the pack offered some comfort. Stiles agonized over what to do with his baby should he not live through the delivery, which was a very real concern. Since he was still seventeen, the baby would likely get given to Stiles’ dad if he didn’t make it. He couldn’t exactly put Derek down on the birth certificate, after all. Come to think of it, _he_ might not even be on the birth certificate. As the father, anyway. Though Stiles was fully biologically male, did the person who carried the child automatically get put down as the mother? There wasn’t exactly much history to work off of to answer Stiles’ questions. He supposed that if he was put down as the mother he should do the honorable thing and put Derek down as the father, and fuck what everyone else thought. They would judge him no matter what was on his baby’s birth certificate.

When Stiles was eighteen weeks pregnant he and Derek made the drive to San Francisco to shop for baby items. Stiles had been reluctant to shop in Beacon Hills, where people knew and would recognize him. He also didn’t want to do it alone. Derek drove them in his Camaro, stopping to pick up snacks for Stiles along the way, stealing sips of his milkshake as he drove. Stiles couldn’t help but like the new domesticity he and Derek were going through. He knew they couldn’t play house forever, but when the light glinted off Derek’s eyelashes and he turned to smile at Stiles in the passenger seat, Stiles couldn’t help but feel at home.

Derek seemed to be in his element selecting items for the baby, picking out toys and clothes and furniture with gusto, dragging Stiles between department store aisles until he found an item that he liked. Stiles couldn’t help but tease Derek by picking out wolf themed toys, throwing them into the trolley with a smirk directed Derek’s way. Derek smacked him on the arm with a stuffed wolf after Stiles tried to sneak it into the basket for the fourth time.

“They’re going to be reminded every day that they’re a wolf, Stiles. They don’t need to be reminded every time they look at their toys too.” His words sounded harsh but, like with everything he said to Stiles nowadays, the affection was audible in his voice. Where Derek had once been reserved and almost grumpy, now he was animated and loving, caressing Stiles’ cheek and running his hand down his arm whenever he got the chance. Stiles was pleased to note that Derek slipped back into his colder personality when directing the pack, showing only his alpha side. But when he looked at Stiles it was like a switch flipped.

“Brown crib or white?” Stiles asked, looking between the two options.

“Neither,” Derek replied, steering him back towards the clothing section. “I’m having one made out of hemlock. It’s supposed to be less flammable than other wood.” Stiles stopped in his tracks and looked into Derek’s eyes. It broke his heart that Derek felt the need to give their child a flame retardant crib. Stiles sniffed and wiped his eye to hold back a tear. Stupid hormones. He had cried when he burnt bacon the other day, his dad rushing in to find him sobbing while scraping a pan into the bin. His emotional threshold wasn’t exactly high at that point. They drove back to Beacon Hills with a carload of baby supplies and accessories.

“I can’t wait to see you wearing this,” Stiles grinned as he help up a Baby Bjorn. The mental image of Derek walking around with an infant strapped to his chest was so ridiculous that Stiles couldn’t even conjure up an image in his head.

It was Derek who eventually convinced Stiles to attend parenting classes, on the condition that they attend them away from Beacon Hills and that Derek also accompanied him. Stiles’ nineteen weeks pregnant belly protruded from his body, forcing him to wear heavy coats when he attended school and garnering even more sidelong looks from his peers.

Derek was going through his own bout of scrutiny from Stiles’ father who had taken to spending more time with the two together as Stiles’ pregnancy progressed.

“Derek’s not … normal, is he?” the sheriff asked Stiles in a low voice when Derek left the room one afternoon. Stiles shook his head, knowing his dad was referring to the supernatural and not just Derek’s sometimes odd personality.

“He’s … different,” Stiles supplied. “But good. He’s excited.”

“Does his … whatever … get passed down?” His dad looked concerned, taking Stiles’ hand in his own.

“Yeah, dad. But it’s ok. It’s nothing I can’t handle. _We_ can’t handle.” Stiles smiled softly at his dad. And when they walk out of the room Derek pressed Stiles against the wall and kissed him slowly, staring into his eyes as he pulled back.

With no sign of the opposing alpha and beta, Stiles began to relax back into his life. He hated being on edge all the time, and Derek’s constant vigilance certainly wasn’t helping. The only time Stiles could get Derek to stay completely in the moment was when they had sex, Derek pressing himself into Stiles slowly, or Stiles sucking down Derek’s cock, teasing him with his tongue.

They went over a month without a sign of the opposing wolves. Stiles started driving himself to school again, provided he picked up Scott on the way. Given how large his bump now was, Stiles had given up on hiding beneath clothing, and instead showcased his new change in features. Like Derek, the pack had also decreased their guard over Stiles, giving him room to move without breathing down his neck. The male members of the pack had started to behave oddly primal towards Stiles, reaching for his belly and vying to sit as close to him as possible. They would bring him items to eat, wear or use, and compete with each other as to who could be outdone. This was all before they caught themselves, of course. Each had faces flush with embarrassment once they realized what they were doing. As the only female member of the pack, Erica had become extremely broody, cooing at babies on the street in a manner she would have barfed at prior to Stiles’ pregnancy, and pawing at his belly, talking to the baby inside.

“It’s just instincts,” Derek explained when Stiles mentioned it to him. “That’s how a pack acts when there’s a pregnant member in the mix. I assume their behaviour is more intense because the pack baby is also their alphas baby. It’s in every instinct they have to protect it.”

Everything seemed to be settling into place. But, like everything in Stiles’ life, it turned sour soon enough.

 

***

 

Stiles was in his chemistry class when he felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. Given he hadn’t had morning sickness for weeks the feeling took him off guard and sent him running to the bathroom. Wanting to avoid any possible eavesdroppers who would ask uncomfortable questions, he made his way to a bathroom outside of the main building of the school that was only really used during lunch periods. Stiles ran to the sink and splashed cold water on his face, breathing deeply and staring at himself in the mirror as he willed himself not to vomit up the burrito he had for lunch. He expected to hear the pounding of feet on the pavement as one of the pack members chased after him, making sure he was ok. Stiles was relieved when he heard nothing but the wind, glad for a moment to himself, but even the moment was soured by trying to keep his stomach from doing somersaults. Stiles concentrated on his breathing, closing his eyes and gripping the sink tightly, the porcelain cool under his hands. He was caught off guard by a hand clamped over his mouth and nose, pressing a cloth with a fragrant smell into his sinuses. Stiles fought to push the person off, twisting around and reaching back to grab at his assailants body. He had barely enough time to place his hands protectively on his bump before he fell to the ground unconscious.

Stiles awoke with his face pressed to a concrete floor, darkness surrounding him with no breakthrough of light. His hands flew to his stomach, relieved to still feel his bump there. Horrible scenarios of having his child cut out of him flashed through his mind, making him shudder. He stood up and stumbled over to a wall, running his hands along it and following it in a clockwise direction. The room was small, judging by the distance between the corners. There was one door which was locked when Stiles tried the handle. He banged on the wood. Calling out for Derek, his pack, anyone. His call was answered, as the door in front of him opened to reveal the rival beta standing in the square of light made by the doorway.

“Good, you’re awake,” the beta remarked in a gravelly voice. He gestured for Stiles to follow him down a dimly lit hallway. The alpha met them in a small room, filling it with the same smell of earth that had choked Stiles’ senses in the woods.

“What do you want with me? I’m not part of the pack, I can’t help you.” Stiles tried to slow down his heartbeat. He wanted to appear calm and together, not terrified.

“Oh, but an alphas mate is always pack.” The alpha circled Stiles, looking him up and down with interest. “I must say, you look positively unremarkable. Not the type of human many would choose as their mate should they be given that choice. Your alpha must be a weak one.” Stiles bristled at his words, making the alpha laugh.

“My pack will find me. They know my scent,” Stiles declared, staring the alpha down.

“I’m counting on that.” The alpha resumed circling Stiles. “With a mate as far along as you are, the whole pack will go mad trying to find you. They won’t be thinking clearly.” Stiles began to shake. His baby gave a reassuring kick to the inside of his stomach.

“What do you want with my pack?” The alphas eyes flashed red and he bared his teeth at Stiles.

“Your pack is strong but your alpha is weak. They need a strong leader. This kind of territory – one with so much supernatural energy needs to be ruled by a strong alpha. If I kill your mate, his pack will be forced to submit.” The alphas smile unnerved Stiles almost as much as his words.

“You’re wrong,” Stiles declared. “We’re more than a pack. We’re a family. They would never submit to you if you killed their alpha.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree then, won’t we.”

 

***

 

Derek had been pacing the length of Stiles’ room for half an hour now, ears listening keenly for a howl from one of the members of the pack. Isaac had notified Derek immediately when they had noticed Stiles go missing. Isaac had been close enough behind Stiles to see who had taken him, before being subdued by the alpha. Derek’s eyes glowed red as he paced, anger filling him and seeping from his pores. Once night fell, Derek informed Stiles’ father that he had been taken, and advised him to issue an APB on his son.

 

***

 

Stiles spent most of the time with his ear pressed against the peeling paint of the door, listening for his pack or trying to catch bits of conversation between the two wolves holding him captive. The rest of the time he pressed his hands to his stomach and sung lullaby’s to his bump. Stiles was kept in the small room for 12 hours, by his count. The wolves entered the room with a blindfold that they roughly forced over Stiles’ eyes. He listened for every sound while his eyes were out of action, hearing the sound of a clunking elevator taking them from their hideout, the sounds of nature outside, and the slam of the car door when they pushed him into the backseat. When they took the blindfold off, Stiles was shocked to see they were standing on the porch of Derek’s house, night pressing in around them. They push Stiles inside and tied him to a chair in the burnt out husk of the lounge room, pressing a gag into his mouth. The two talked in quiet voices for a moment before approaching Stiles and taking the gag from his mouth. Stiles stared at them as they upended plastic jerry cans onto the floor, coating the floor of the room in clear liquid.

“We’ve got your mate, alpha. Come and get him,” the alpha yelled into the woods. Almost immediately Stiles heard a howl, followed by more in the distance. It took only a few moments before Stiles heard the sound of leaves shifting underfoot, and growls filling the air. The air exploded with the sound of jaws snapping and wolves growling. Every few moments a wolf would let out a whimper of pain. The door flew open to reveal the rival beta. Stiles locked eyes with him momentarily before he lit a match and dropped it to the wood floor. Immediately the room lit up as yellow and orange flames snaked around the path the wolves had drawn in gas, surrounding Stiles in heat. The growling outside intensified and Stiles worked to free his hands from their bindings. He pressed his lips together, willing himself not to call out, not to distract his pack, but the overwhelming heat began to lick his legs as the fire crept outside of its previous confines.

“Derek,” Stiles screamed, squeezing his eyes shut. Then more than ever he wished to be a wolf like his friends. Someone who was capable of saving themselves and didn’t need assistance from anybody who wasn’t an equal.

When Derek pushed through the door, his arms and hands bloodied he stopped short, eyes wide with fear. Stiles wondered if the alpha had known Derek’s family history, or whether he had just gotten lucky. The scene playing out in front of Derek was his worst nightmare come true. Derek visibly steeled himself before running through the fire, welts immediately blossoming on his arms. He cut through Stiles’ bindings with a slash of his claw and picked him up, sprinting outside and falling to the ground. Though Stiles had come out relatively unscathed, Derek’s arm had been badly burnt and blood covered his shirt. Stiles looked over in time to see Scott rip out the betas throat with his claws as Isaac held him down, showering them both in blood. Stiles collapsed to the floor, gasping as the panic attack settled over him. He drew his knees to his chest and breathed deeply, concentrating on not blacking out. The pack howled around him, their cries filling the night sky. Derek reached for him, entwining their fingers and smearing blood over Stiles’ hand. Stiles’ breathing calmed, and he looked down to see Derek’s veins turning black, taking away his pain.

Stiles’ dad cried when Scott helped Stiles through his front door, gathering his son up in a hug, glancing only momentarily at the blood Scott was coated in. Derek healed quickly, though he went back to refusing to let Stiles out of his sight. The pack shared the same sentiment, growling under their breaths whenever anybody so much as looked at Stiles, earning them some serious side-eye.

The next few weeks of Stiles’ pregnancy were relatively uneventful. Stiles finally began to set up for the baby in the spare room of the house, arranging toys and clothes around the space where Derek’s crib would go. When he showed Derek the mobile he had commissioned of a series of shining triskelion’s suspended from the outline of a howling wolf, Derek hugged Stiles so tightly he thought he might break. That night he licked Stiles out until he cried, pressing his face into the mattress to drown out the sounds of orgasm.

During his next ultrasound Ms McCall asked Stiles if he wanted to hear the baby’s heartbeat. Stiles wasn’t ashamed to admit that he cried, filled with a love that was strangely _maternal_ at the thumping sound of the heart of the little person inside of him. Derek had gripped his hand and pressed his forehead to Stiles’ shoulder, promising to buy Stiles a stethoscope so he could hear the baby anytime he wanted. When Stiles joking called him ‘daddy’ later, Derek grabbed the back of his next and fucked him into the mattress until he could barely move. That night Stiles asked Derek if he ever missed going home.

“You’re my home, Stiles,” Derek had said, his face buried in Stiles’ hair. And god damn if that didn’t make Stiles’ year.

The full moon came a few weeks later, meaning Derek was so antsy that Stiles ended up shoving him fully clothes into the shower with the cold tap on full blast in an effort to get him to stop. The sight of Derek glaring at him, water streaming down his ridiculously sculpted face and puddling at his feet had Stiles bent in half crying with laughter.

“Stop _pacing,_ ” Stiles groaned as he sat at his computer. Though his back was turned towards Derek he could _feel_ him walking up and down the room, pausing ever so often to glance through the window Stiles had opened earlier. “Go for a run or something, you’re making me nervous.” Stiles knew Derek wouldn’t leave – not after the unfortunate kidnapping debacle – but he also knew that it was technically his fault that Derek was so antsy. Though Stiles was fuzzy on the timeline, so was sure there was only one more full moon until he could possibly be triggered into an early birth, which apparently made Derek’s instincts go crazy.

“It’s the scent of you mixed with the baby,” Derek explained as he continued to pace. Stiles was starting to think he would wear a hole in the carpet. “My instincts are telling me to breed you.”

“Uh, bit late for that.” Stiles gestured to his large belly.

“ _I_ know that, but apparently some part of me doesn’t.” Derek groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands.

“We could, like, pretend if you wanted?” Stiles wasn’t even sure what he was trying to insinuate. Much to his occasional dismay, he couldn’t hide the baby bump if he tried. Derek’s eyes had turned dark. He moved towards Stiles in a manner that could only be described as stalking. He leaned over Stiles, bracing his hands on the arms of the desk chair and crowding Stiles’ space.

“Would you like that? For me to breed you?” Stiles tried to ignore the massive freaking boner he was sporting because _why_ was he so turned on by this. Derek nipped at his neck, continuing to whisper filthy things in Stiles’ ear. “You like being all full up with my baby?” Stiles gasped as Derek bit down on his neck, the tip of his wolf teeth puncturing Stiles’ skin just slightly. His hard cock twitched in his pants when Derek pulled back, showing Stiles his red eyes.

“Fucking god,” Stiles managed to get out before Derek roughly pressed his lips to Stiles’, forcing them open with his tongue and licking into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles allowed himself to be lifted off the chair, Derek’s muscles bulging as he held Stiles against his body, pressing their cocks together. Stiles pulled his head back, jerking it away from Derek as he tried to follow him.

“What are you waiting for, big guy,” he smirked. Derek groaned and tossed Stiles onto the bed with more force than he had used on the other boy since they discovered the pregnancy. Stiles was delighted by the display of force. Deep down he loved being pushed around by Derek, having the wolf manhandle him and take what he pleased. Derek yanked Stiles’ jeans down so hard be busted the zipper. Stile’s shirt fared equally badly, ripping down the seam with a harsh sound that Derek didn’t even acknowledge. Stiles arched his back as Derek licked over his nipple, taking the nub between his lips and sucking, and _fuck_ if Stiles didn’t like that. He managed to yank Derek’s shirt over his head, marveling at the gorgeous pale body of the man before him. If he hadn’t been born a wolf he was pretty sure Derek would have been destined to walk the fashion runways of Europe. He was also pretty sure he would have bruises for a month if Derek continued to bite at his thighs with as much force as he was currently using.

“Hey, go easy on the – oh.” Stiles was cut off when Derek shoved his legs in the air and went about lapping up Stiles’ musky scent, licking into his hole and making it quiver. Stiles vowed to never again question Derek’s love for eating ass when he noticed the wolf rutting into the bed as he worked Stiles over, spreading precum onto the sheets. Stiles reached down to tug at his cock, nearly shooting into his own fist with a twist of Derek’s tongue. Gasping, he pulled Derek up by the hair and kissed him, tasting himself on Derek’s perfect tongue.

“You gonna knot me, baby?” Stiles asked as he yanked Derek closer, wanting to feel every inch of his warm skin. He heard Derek hiss through his teeth, could feel his cock pressing heavily into his stomach, feel his hands pawing at his thighs and ass, needy and ready. “Gonna fill me with your cum?” Derek flipped him over, pulling his ass apart and spitting into his hole. He let the spit run down Stiles’ ass and catch on his rim before gathering it on his fingers and pushing two inside to the hilt. Stiles moaned at the burning sensation, loving how wet and open he already was even without Derek’s fingers. Derek applied lube to his digits liberally before pushing another two in, scissoring them to pull Stiles apart. Stiles’ brain was definitely being pulled apart. He should probably have cared at least a little bit about Derek’s apparent disregard for his ass, but it was just so damn _hot_ to see his control slip. Derek freaking _growled_ when he pushed into Stiles, bottoming out and making Stiles grip the headboard to steady himself. His thrusts were immediately harsh, giving his partner no time to adjust to the new rhythm before plowing into him. All Stiles could do was brace himself as he was rocked by Derek’s movements, feeling the push and pull of his cock, clenching around it and feeling every inch. Derek draped himself over Stiles’ back and leaned down to whisper in his ear, asking if the other boy was sure. Stiles gripped Derek’s hand, pulling him close to kiss him. Derek needed no more agreement then that, his cock swelling inside Stiles and locking them together as he pulsed cum into Stiles’ ass. The increased pressure on Stiles’ prostate sent him shooting over his own hand, getting under his nails and in between his digits, unlocking some new perverse kink Stiles was unaware he possessed. Derek placed kisses across Stiles’ shoulder and lay them down on their sides, moaning with each new pulse of cum that filled Stiles.

“Thank you,” he whispered into his mate’s ear. Stiles said nothing, only grabbed Derek’s arm to pull him into a proper spooning position. When Derek’s knot eventually began to subside he pulled it out of Stiles gently, scooting down the bed to watch his cum drip out of Stiles’ red and puckered hole. Stiles mentally threw cold water over himself to push away the arousal when Derek whimpered and pushed the cum back in with his thumb.

“ _Christ_ Derek,” Stiles muttered. “You’ve definitely got some kind of impregnation kink, mate.” Derek didn’t deny it. Typical. Stiles decided he might share the same sentiment when he let Derek knot him in the shower a few hours later, the warm water running down Stiles’ back and beading across his chest.


	5. II/II

Stiles began counting down the days until the next full moon, marking the days as they passed on the calendar with large red X’s. Derek hadn’t been all too impressed with Stiles’ choice of calendar, but Stiles had thought the puppies were cute. A little golden retriever championed the month in which their baby would be born in. stiles hoped it was as cute as the little dog, though he expected it to probably look like a potato. He had watched a video on the internet of a woman giving birth, half wanting to be prepared, and half out of some kind of morbid curiosity. At the appearance of the baby’s head he had ripped the power cord out of the computer with his feet, yelling at Derek that he never wanted to turn on his computer again. Derek just stared at him. Derek had been even less impressed with Stiles’ artwork to mark the next full moon. Stiles had thought the little tombstone with his name on it was humorous, but Derek’s reaction of tearing the calendar in half showed that he clearly didn’t agree. Stiles drew a wolf on the date in the next calendar he bought. That one was received far better.

They had started to talk names – or rather _tried_ because Derek was so sure they were having a boy that he wouldn’t discuss girls names. They agreed on baby names about as much as they tended to agree on anything, which is to say, not a lot. Stiles argued that since he carried the damn thing he should be able to pick the name, while Derek stated that since it would have Stiles’ last name he should have free reign over the given names. Derek was gunning for some weird Latin style name that Stiles couldn’t even pronounce without Google translate.

“I know what it’s like to have a terrible name that you never use and nobody can pronounce. I’m not doing that to my kid.” Derek had dropped the issue immediately, cooing about Stiles’ mad face.

Derek’s crib arrived a few weeks before the birth, a beautiful dark wood piece with half-moons carved into the headboard. Stiles spent much of his time sitting in the baby’s room, folding baby clothes on his stomach and arranging accessories on the shelves his dad had put up. His dad called it _nesting._ He knew Derek came into the room sometimes, sitting on the shaggy rug in the center or running his hands over the wood of the crib. Stiles stayed out of sight in the hall, letting Derek have those private moments with his unborn child.

Stiles began to have panic attacks again, his lungs constricting in his chest, tears building behind his lids. Derek always sat by the comfort him, wrapping him in blankets and singing him the same lullaby’s he sang to the baby, peppering kisses on Stiles’ face and neck. He told Derek he wasn’t sure why he was having them again, and that it was probably just stress. But Stiles knew. Every night as he struggled to drift off to sleep he imagined himself bleeding out on the operating table, imagined his child choking on his blood, powerless to stop it filling its tiny airways. He dreamt of the baby ripping itself out of Stiles’ abdomen with its teeny werewolf teeth, eyes glowing a mix of red, blue and yellow. Every time he began to slip into sleep he would jerk awake, mistaking the lull of sleep for the darkness of losing consciousness, as if the blood was draining from his body and pooling onto the floorboards of his bedroom. He was terrified of leaving his baby without a parent, reliving the feelings of losing his own mother at a young age. He remembered the loneliness and the sleepless nights, and the sheer terror of not knowing what would happen to her; not knowing if every time would be the last time he saw her.

Stiles began to search for anything that would give him a better shot at coming out of the delivery relatively unscathed. He pitched a few ideas to Derek, but most he kept to himself. One idea he shared was asking Derek if he could give him the bite if it went bad and looked like Stiles might not make it.

“Could you do it? Would it work in time?” Stiles tried to keep the hope out of his voice.

“This isn’t _Twilight,_ Stiles,” Derek muttered. “It would probably just kill you. If something that bad was happening to you it likely wouldn’t take in time, anyway.”

Stiles began to go in for weekly appointments with a surgeon who took x-rays of Stiles’ body, trying to determine the best route for a successful operation. The surgeon hadn’t know what to make of the shots of Stiles’ body, informing him that he didn’t appear to have a uterus, or possess any other female sexual organs. Stiles could have told him that. He just hoped the baby wasn’t residing in his stomach or something. As large as Derek’s dick was he didn’t think it could maneuver itself that far.

With only one week to go until the full moon Stiles decided to write a will. He wasn’t even sure if it would be valid since he was a minor, but he knew his dad would honor his wants if he made them known. He penned it when Derek was out on pack business, not wanting him to stop Stiles with his constant claims of “it’ll be fine” and “you don’t need to do this”. Stiles _wanted_ to do it. Having everything in order gave him peace. Most of the doling out of items came easily to him: his lacrosse gear and supernatural research books to Scott, his childhood toys and memory albums to his dad, his Jeep to Derek. He wasn’t sure whether or not he should actually sign the Jeep over to Derek. It was crap, after all. It needed a million hours of work put into it, and Derek had his own (much nicer) car. Stiles wanted to have his kid ride around in the Jeep. If he couldn’t be physically there then he wanted the baby to have that little piece of what was his. One decision he agonized over was custody of the baby. If he wasn’t able to list Derek on the birth certificate then the baby would be released to the sheriff. Stiles had no doubts that his dad would allow Derek to be involved in the baby’s life, but he knew his dad was wary of Derek. He knew Derek wasn’t entirely human, and thus didn’t trust him as much as he otherwise would have. Stiles couldn’t handle the thought of his baby having no parents at all, so penned a paragraph detailing how Derek should be given custody, should the will be valid.

While Derek was absent Stiles also wrote letters to his friends. He thanked Scott for always being there for him, thanked Lydia for giving him something to work towards, thanked Allison for making Scott a better person. He thanked his father for being the greatest one he could have hoped for, one who put up with his jokes and who had made room for Derek and the baby in his home. The letters were punctuated with spots of dampness where Stiles’ tears had soaked into the paper. He had the most difficulty writing something down for Derek. He had no idea what to say to the werewolf. He wanted to thank him for protecting him, for laughing with him, and for showing him a whole new world that he loved being a part of. He wanted to thank him for giving him the experience of being a parent, however short the time might be. He wanted to thank him for just being _him,_ and for letting Stiles in to see the man he really was under the cold exterior. He wanted to tell him to look after the baby, and to give him a good family. Nothing looked right on the page. After chewing clear through the end of the pen Stiles simply wrote “I love you”. He sealed the envelopes and placed them under his bed, the names of his friends and family staring up at him from the floorboards.

 

***

 

Stiles woke the morning of the night of the full moon feeling calmer than he had for the past few months. _Isn’t that what happens to people who’ve decided to commit suicide? They stress and hurt but that dims when they decide to really end it,_ Stiles pondered over his cereal. Derek kept fussing over him, trying to touch him and fix his clothes and pet his hair. Stiles’ dad eyed them over his newspaper, furrowing his brow. Everyone was on edge, anticipating the start of Stiles’ labour – or whatever he would experience in place of labour. _Hopefully not a little wolf baby tearing its way out of my stomach,_ Stiles thought. The doctors would be completely unprepared when he came in. Stiles’ surgery date was scheduled month and a half into the future, since babies weren’t typically delivered at the seven month mark. Ms McCall said the baby was far larger than what a human baby of that age would have been, which gave Stiles hope that he would be alright. Even if Stiles wasn’t there. Stiles had wondered if he might also lactate, since his life was basically a nightmare already. Luckily for him, his nipples had never been drier, because he didn’t think he would be able to handle himself if freaking milk started coming out of his nipples. Derek had informed him that some female werewolves grow extra nipples when they become pregnant. Derek had the darkest of glares levelled at him when he suggested that it might happen to Stiles. The pack kept insinuating that he wasn’t just pregnant with one werewolf baby, but that he was carrying a whole _litter._ Erica in particular had absolutely _delighted_ in making those jokes. Until Derek threatened to rip her throat out if she pissed Stiles off again, that was.

Stiles had his dad help him pack a hospital bag the morning of the full moon, sending Derek out to spend time with the pack.

“You know you’ve got time, right,” his dad told him. “I know you’re probably just nesting, but don’t you want to wait a little? Give it some time?”

“I’m not sure I have much time,” Stiles replied. And he didn’t.

Stiles stood at his bedroom window as the sun set, wondering if it would be the last time he would watch it go. He had cleaned his room earlier that day, shuffling his papers into a pile on his desk and lining up his books on his bookshelf in alphabetical order. He and Derek were heading over to Scott’s house to be closer to the hospital for moonrise. Stiles walked into his child’s room, and flicked one of the triskelion’s on the mobile. His heart felt like it was beating in his throat, constricting his breath and making him feel sick. Stiles dragged his fingers over the crib, glancing over at the old rocking chair in the corner that his dad had pulled out of storage. He imagined his mother rocking him in it as a baby, and squeezed his eyes shut to keep from crying. He shouldered his hospital bag and gave once last glance at the room, whishing on every star that he would get to see it again.

Stiles was barely able to hold back the tears when saying goodbye to his dad, pulling him in close and telling him he loved him. His dad had looked concerned and glanced at Derek who was watching them, stone faced in the hallway.

“We’re going to Scott’s,” Stiles explained, voice thick with held back emotion. “I’m not sure when we’ll be back.” His dad grabbed his arms and stared into his eyes, searching Stiles’ face. He opened his mouth as if to say a thousand things, but stopped himself. He hugged his son and watched as Stiles and Derek walked out the door. The only thing that kept Stiles from breaking down on the walk to the car was Derek’s hand in his own, squeezing his fingers tightly to keep him from slipping away.

 

***

 

At Scott’s it didn’t take long for Stiles to notice the changes in his body. He felt like he was buzzing, being dragged toward the heaven while simultaneously being pushed into the ground. Scott stayed for a while before going out to be with the pack on Derek’s orders. Stiles watched as the moon rose through the gap in Scott’s curtains. He watched as it crept over the carpet as the moments went by, chasing him down before it would claim him. At just past eight o’clock Stiles felt a stabbing pain rocket through his stomach. He fell to the ground with a yell, Derek shooting over to grab him, veins blackening as he took Stiles’ pain.

“I think this is it,” Stiles said through gritted teeth. He had expected the labour to be like that of a female, with steadily increasing contractions leading up to the birth. Apparently the baby had other ideas, since the pain wasn’t decreasing. Instead of coming in waves it refused to subside, becoming only mildly better whenever Derek tried to take his pain. They rushed to the car, driving more than double the speed limit to get to the hospital, Stiles drafting a text to his father as they went. Derek was frantic when they rushed into the emergency room, rushing between nurses and Stiles, demanding he be seen and operated on immediately. Stiles blacked out from the pain as Derek rushed back over to him, slumping forward into the hospital room chair, his stomach turning black and blue from being bruised on the inside.

Stiles awoke a short time later in a hospital bed with Derek next to him, biting his lip so hard there was blood on his chin. Stiles reached up to wipe it off, wincing at the pain that shot through his abdomen at the movement.

“They gave you something for the pain,” Derek whispered. “Your dad’s on his way.” Stiles nodded. He felt loopy. He wasn’t sure if it was the medication or the imminent death. “They’re going to take you in now. They’re just giving us a moment.”

“There’s tears in your eyes, sourwolf,” Stiles murmured. He was struggling to stay awake, wanted to keep the darkness at bay as long as he could. “It’s a good look for you. Really makes them pop. The baby will have your eyes. I’m counting on it.” Derek placed his lips to Stiles’ hand in reply, breathing in the scent of his mate. Stiles wasn’t able to stay awake after that, slipping into unconsciousness as the nurses came into the room to wheel him in to the operating theatre. Stiles’ dad had told Derek to go in with him, clapping the wolf on the shoulder and squeezing his arm for reassurance.

Derek thought Stiles looked so small on the operating table, covered in blue material with the team of doctors and nurses moving around him. The lead surgeon studied Stiles’ x-rays, drawing on him with a marker where they would make the incision. Derek watched them all like hawks, having to hold back from snapping at them with his teeth whenever any of them made a move towards Stiles.

At first it appeared to go smoothly. Using the pictures of Stiles’ insides as reference they cut into Derek’s mate, showering the blue material with blood. There was more blood than Derek had ever seen, and it had come out of Stiles. The sight was so disturbing that Derek had to look away. He focused his attention on Stiles’ face. His mate’s lips were slightly open, obscured by the oxygen mask. His eyelids fluttered gently every now and then, his pupils moving beneath his eyelids. He looked so peaceful that Derek was taken completely by surprise when the machines hooked up to Stiles started beeping wildly, sending the medical team into a panic. Derek could see blood absolutely spurting out of Stiles, and one of the nurses yelled that he wasn’t breathing. Derek was pulled forcefully out of the room and dumped on the other side of the doors, where Stiles’ dad was waiting.

“What’s happening in there?” The sheriff was panicked, grabbing Derek by the arm. Derek could only stare at the wall. One of the nurses rushed out to address Derek and Stiles’ dad.

“We’re doing the best we can right now, but we need to know who to prioritize if it comes down to it, Mr Stilinski or his baby.” The nurse stared at Derek, but the words just washed over him, taking no hold in his mind. The sheriff glanced at Derek before addressing the nurse with a voice thick with tears.

“Stiles. You have to save Stiles.” He collapsed into a chair as the nurse ran back through the doors, slamming them closed with a thud. Derek couldn’t bring himself to move from the spot, praying with everything he had that it was all a bad dream, that Stiles would come out ok like he always did. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over to see the sheriff.

“He’ll be ok, Derek,” the man said. Derek knew he couldn’t have believed the words he was saying. Derek wanted nothing more than to walk straight out of the hospital, and straight out of Beacon Hills. He wanted to start running and never stop. If Stiles died then he had nothing. The pack meant nothing to him if he had to live with a Stiles shaped hole in his life.

An eternity later, the same nurse returned to the waiting room, waving Derek and the sheriff over. Derek didn’t think he’d ever moved faster.

“Both Mr Stilinski and his baby have been stabilized,” she offered with a smile. “They both suffered some complications and aren’t out of the woods yet, but you should be able to see them shortly.” Derek was broken from his trance by the sheriff hugging him. Derek gripped him just as tight, elated smiles covering both of their faces. They had to wait to see Stiles, but eventually he was wheeled into a room in the ICU where his dad and Derek were waiting for him. The first thing Stiles saw when he slowly opened his eyes was Derek’s face above him, his eyes shining with tears.

“Hey sourwolf,” Stiles mumbled. “I didn’t make you cry, did I?”

“You don’t do things by halves, do you, kiddo?” His dad asked from the other side of the bed. Stiles could feel the goofy grin covering his face. The baby was kept in the neonatal unit for a few hours much to Stiles’ disdain. Just as he was debating sending his dad out for pizza the nurse knocked on the door of the hospital room. She wheeled in a little plastic bed which had his baby in it. _His baby._ Stiles wasn’t sure he would ever really get used to that.

“Here’s your little girl,” the nurse smiled. She picked up the bundle and placed it in Stiles’ arms. Stiles couldn’t help but laugh at the shock on Derek’s face.

“Looks like you were wrong, Der.” Derek didn’t seem to mind, smiling down at the baby with the biggest grin on his face. The nurse asked if they had a name picked out yet to fill in the birth certificate.

“Maybe give us a minute with that one,” Stiles asked. He smirked at Derek. “Bet you’re wishing you didn’t refuse to discuss girl names now, huh.” Derek rolled his eyes. Their daughter wrapped her little fingers around Derek’s thumb.

“She’s so perfect,” Derek whispered.

“What should we call her?” Stiles elbowed Derek with his free hand.

“You can name her whatever the hell you want, Stiles. I’m just glad the two of you are alive.” Derek pressed his lips to Stiles’ forehead.

“Dad, can you grab a pen?” Stiles asked. He winced at the attempt to sit up, pulling at his fresh stitches. “Actually can you write it in? Don’t think I’ll be able to get up to table height.” He glanced over at Derek who was completely ignoring him in favor of the tiny person in front of him. His dad nodded.

“Parent number one name?” His dad paused with the pen just above the pink paper of the card.

“Mieczysław Stilinski.” Stiles fumbled slightly over his own name, making his dad smile.

“Parent number two name?”

“Derek Hale.” Derek’s head shot up at the sound of his name, flashing Stiles a toothy smile.

“Baby name?” Stiles paused for a moment.

“Claudia Talia Stilinski-Hale,” he replied. Derek pulled him into a kiss, being careful not to jar the baby. Claudia. Their daughter. Stiles couldn’t have wiped the smile off his face if he tried.

“Your mother would be so proud of you,” the sheriff said through tears. Stiles thought about it for a moment.

“Yeah, she would,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to his daughter’s head and breathing in her smell.

 

***

 

Stiles had to stay in the hospital for a few weeks, while Claudia was released after only a few days. Derek looked pained when he had to leave Stiles, promising to come back every day and send him videos of their daughter. Which he certainly did. Stiles received a video every five minutes of Claudia doing absolutely _nothing._ There was only so many videos of her doing nothing but sleeping that he could take before he began teasing Derek about being so enamored with her. Not that Stiles would have had it any other way.

The first thing Stiles did once he was finally allowed to go home was sit in the rocking chair with Claudia. Holding his daughter against his chest as he hummed lullabies to her made him feel closer to his mother than he had in years.

Derek was an absolutely doting father, feeding and changing and playing with Claudia every moment he could get his hands on her. If Stiles didn’t know better he would say Derek actually _liked_ being awoken by their daughter in the middle of the night. Derek also started showing Stiles listings for houses in their area, knowing they were only a month shy of Stiles’ eighteenth birthday. The houses he picked had bay windows, and large gardens, and ample bedrooms.

“At least wait a couple of weeks before you knock me up again,” Stiles had teased.

They were sitting on the floor of Claudia’s room together one night, having both gotten up for one of her night feeds, when Derek cleared his throat and caught Stiles’ eye.

“I found your notes. The ones you wrote to us all before you went into the hospital.” Stiles froze. He wasn’t really sure why. He thought about what he wrote in Derek’s letter, his first instinct being to hope he hadn’t read it. His overwhelming instinct hoped that he had. “I read mine and … god, Stiles I hadn’t realized I’d never said anything to you before.” He grabbed Stiles’ hands, rubbing Stiles’ palm with his thumb. “I love you. More than I ever thought I could.”

“Does that mean I can start calling you my boyfriend and not just my baby daddy?” Stiles joked. Derek rolled his eyes.

“I assumed you’d been doing that for a while.” He rubbed his thumb over Stiles’ lips and smiled sweetly.

That night, once Claudia was asleep in her room and Derek had climbed into bed with Stiles, wrapping himself around him and nuzzling into his neck, Stiles allowed himself to drift off to sleep. Whereas before Claudia’s birth his nights had been plagued with dreams of death and monsters, now all he could see was light. He dreamt of the sun streaming through bay windows, and of waking up in the morning lying on Derek’s chest, their daughter next to them. He dreamt of Claudia running through their backyard, curly brown hair streaming out behind her, green/blue eyes searching for her fathers. But most of all Stiles dreamt of Derek. He imagined them growing old together, filling the rooms of their house with babies and dogs and books. Stiles had always been slightly unsure of what he would do with his life and where he would go. Lying with Derek’s arms around him in his bed and their daughter in the next room answered all his questions. He would never need anything more because he was home.


End file.
